


Awakening To the Dream

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Guild Wars 2
Genre: Original Player Characters, Sylvari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pumila awakens to find Elenian, and experiences the joy of being alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awakening To the Dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kisssanitygoodbye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisssanitygoodbye/gifts).



Of all the imagery in my Dream, the swirling colors and undulating surfaces, the ghostly brush of the Dream upon my skin, like the rustle of wind, all overpowered by the warm journey of the sun to my roots, I know that I didn’t see him. I saw many things; myself, my hound, the glow of my leaves, the Pale Tree herself, and the sickness in the land that spreads like fungus and rot—I saw them all with perceptive eyes, but I didn’t see him.

We woke next to one another, wanting, urgently full of the drive to move, to untwist our joints and spread our fingers, crackle and sway, to breathe the life into ourselves and feel the ground underneath our bare feet. There were many of us, some I remembered from the Dream, many I didn’t, but it was warm and we were alive and drunk on the joy of it.   
  
Joy was new—all emotion was new, but joy was a thing of obvious greatness and I watched those around me feel it, digging their toes into the warm earth and shivering to their ears, happy, and learning what happy was.   
  
We woke so close that I was the first thing he touched, his body fumbling, awkward, and new. Unsure of how it worked, he stretched, and his elbow pressed into my side. When he pulled it back, our hands touched. We both took and left behind, my fingers covered in silky white powder, a streak of gold on his palm. He looked at me, and we were both perplexed, because he was starlight and I was the sun, having tumbled out of the Dream at the same time, yet so different that it was hardly evident we were both Sylvari. When he laughed I knew that sound, and I felt my face break into a smile, tongue against my teeth, my eyelids transforming into something pleased and narrow and upturned.    
  
“Pardon me,” he said softly, becoming sure of the strength in his voice, but not there entirely. He looked at  me as though he couldn’t figure me out. I didn’t blame him, I could barely figure it out myself.   
  
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” I sat down, overwhelmed, overjoyed, looking at the canopy of enormous leaves above me and adoring them just as I adored the sensation of grass against my bare body. I dug my toes into it, then reached forward to touch my toes. In the Dream, I was intangible and unreal, a whisper of my limbs, held together by my mind. Here, I was real.   
  
It is glorious to be real.   
  
“Are you…are you alright?” He asked, looking down at me, his eyes shining silver in the dim surroundings, and when I told him that I was fine, better than fine, in fact, I realized I knew his voice better than I knew my own. I wondered if I’d heard it in my dream.   
  
We spoke briefly, comparing our compulsions, and we both felt as though it was integral that we spoke to the Firstborn. So we decided to travel together, it felt right, like sun on our faces and the night on our skin, like the crackle of storm in his fingertips, and the weight of a sword in my hand.   
  
I am told that some Sylvari are born without clear purpose, alone and unsure.   
  
I must be lucky, for I am full of purpose the way I am full of my life, and I have Elenian, so I am not alone.   
  
That too, is wonderful.


End file.
